


Stone Walls Do Not A Prison Make

by fractalserpentine, HopeofDawn



Series: A Stitch In Time [3]
Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-12
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalserpentine/pseuds/fractalserpentine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeofDawn/pseuds/HopeofDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kain and Raziel make plans, encounter some misunderstandings, and learn more about the dark side of the Ancients' battles with the Hylden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stone Walls Do Not A Prison Make

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of explanation: this was originally written for a long-running crossover RPG called Multiverse Haven (now sadly defunct). The basic premise of the game was that characters had been pulled from multiple worlds and marked as Chosen, in order to eventually restore a dying multiverse. The main storyline takes place in Nosgoth, however there may be occasional references to characters, magic systems and some borrowed vampire terminology from other canon sources.

“The realm of States -- energies, transformations -- was always a Hylden specialty,” nodded the States Guardian, Armon. He and the Death Guardian, Chaika, paced beside Raziel, each of them in the regal accoutrements of their offices. Like most Ancients, they seemed to prefer white or shades of blue; next to them, Raziel stood out starkly in deep bloody red.

Little more than a few days since Raziel’s arrival, however, and already certain changes were beginning to be wrought. Some of the flags that hung from many of the ledges had been replaced by replications of the clan drape Raziel had borne. Not all the interpretations were entirely accurate, nor even always in red and white, but the Ancients’ enthusiasm was clear. More of the winged beings trickled into the city every hour upon the broadspread news of Raziel’s presence. His aims had not been yet announced, but the Ancients were pleased to gather anyway, to renew old acquaintances, to sing in sweet voices and wheel across the skies in ever-increasing numbers.

Access to Raziel himself, however, was most carefully filtered. Eyes still turned to Raziel wherever he walked, but temple guards intercepted overeager individuals, in the air or on foot, to turn them away. Even with only the Guardians requesting his attention, Raziel was kept well-occupied. The three winged beings, trailed by a human scribe, were at present making their way towards the water forge, at which location the two guardians proposed to show Raziel the workings of the water glyphs. The use of those water-condensing magics had long been lost to Raziel, difficult to utilize since his travels through the timestream.

Talons scraped upon marble down one echoing, airy corridor, soft voices evidently denying another newcomer access to Raziel.

Distracted by the prospects of regaining some of his lost magics, and by now well-used to having Ancients drop in--literally--to see their 'messiah' no matter where he might go, Raziel paid little mind to the voices. "I have seen some evidence of their skill in that regard myself," he said thoughtfully. "Though their abilities in the Dimension realm have also become quite formidable indeed. Was it always so, or is that likely a result of their exile?"

“Do you mean, beyond the occasional dealing with extra-planar beings?” inquired Chaika, the Death Guardian, exchanging a worried glance with his brother. Chaika was the older of the two, and like many Ancients, still carried scars of battle. The pale blue line that crossed his throat was likely the cause of the rasp in his voice.

More murmuring came from down the corridor, then a raised growl and a clatter as someone’s spear was torn from their grasp. Someone shouted, and a hollow boom shook the carved hallway, causing bits of plaster to sprinkle down. Near the Guardians and Raziel, a pair of massive ebony statues suddenly twitched, stones grinding upon one another as they animated.

Raziel wheeled, instincts born of centuries of battle taking over as he crouched, talons at the ready. It took only a moment to realize that he recognized that growl, and then he took off towards the fracas, cursing under his breath. Kain's patience, it seemed, had reached its limits. Mindful of the Guardians at his back, as well as the other golems rousing to the Ancients' defense, Raziel redoubled his speed, hoping to intervene before Kain did anything ... irrevocable.

The scene as Raziel darted around a corner was not encouraging. The black-clad vampire knelt over the prone body of an Ancient, pinning the smaller female guard upon her back, one long-clawed hand wrapped around her throat as he snarled a question at her. The dazed -- likely stunned -- guard could only snarl back, her glittering gaze promising death the moment she regained control of her limbs or voice for the spawning of spells. Other guards had evidently heard the commotion, for they approached at a run.

"Kain!" Raziel snapped, drawing the younger vampire's attention. He did not want to insult his sire by attacking him--but neither did he want Kain to rend asunder the fragile alliances they were attempting to build. Hearing the running footsteps of the others, he stepped forward, trying to place himself between Kain and any other defenders. "What is going on here?"

“Raziel!” Kain glanced up. The momentary redirection of his concentration was evidently all the distraction the young female guard needed. She gasped a word of power. With a shockingly hollow boom, Kain was flung back and into a wall, hard enough to crack the intricate carvings there. His expression one of near-comical surprise, Kain had no time to mount his own response, for the Ancient summoned tentacle-like snares that burst from the walls and floor. The suckered limbs wound about him, thoroughly entrapping Kain in less than a second. The guard dove for her spear.

Raziel moved at the same moment, wings half-spread as he dove between Kain and the furious guard. Drawing his sword, he cast a Wall between them, intent on deflecting any further sorcerous or physical attacks, even as he physically interposed himself between them both. "Hold!" he commanded, fangs half-bared, ready to defend his sire if the guards could not restrain themselves.

The female guard seized her spear and stood... only to drop the weapon with a clatter as her eyes fell upon Raziel. And then the other guards were upon them. The corridors were so wide, they could spread their wings enough to half-glide -- and did so, bypassing Raziel and Kain entirely. The leader struck the younger guard feetfirst, speed lending weight to the devastating kick. As she was thrown sprawling, the leader and another guard fell upon her, restraining the guard with sudden and perhaps shocking violence. Another guard, evidently of higher rank, backwinged hard to touch down in front of Raziel. A gesture, and the living bonds holding Kain to the wall began to disintegrate.

Raziel did not interfere with the sudden and harsh disciplining of Kain's original attacker--but neither did he lower his blade, watching the nearer guard warily. He stepped to one side, to watch out of the corner of one eye as Kain shook off the remains of his bonds and regained his feet--and hopefully his temper as well. Knowing that Kain's pride was likely wounded by the attack, Raziel did not attempt to offer the younger vampire any assistance other than a simple query. "Kain. Are you whole?"

“I am,” Kain snarled, clearly rather furious as he strode to join Raziel, his fists clenched. Down the corridor, the living statues rumbled as they turned to make slow progress back to their stands.

The Guardians, who had been escorting Raziel, hurried past the retreating statues. A few commands were shouted in the Ancients’ tongue, and the female guard was dragged to kneel before Raziel, her eyes downcast. Chaika hung back, watching Kain with interest -- Armon, the States Guardian, pinched the bridge of his nose. What a diplomatic nightmare. “Our deepest apologies, Divine Benefactor. What may we do to amend this insult? Will you accept the soul of the guardswoman who bore arms against you?” he asked.

Kain opened his mouth, then closed it. “I do believe they mean you,” he whispered, anger giving way to curiosity. The fight, in his estimation, had been a fair one, after all. He had struck the first blow.

Raziel, for his part, was more than a little taken aback at the suggestion. "You would take her life for this?" he said, a bit appalled. It was not as if she had tried to assassinate him, after all! To devour her soul--condemning it to the Elder God in the process--for a single, simple mistake was something he could hardly understand. He turned to Kain. "She did not do lasting harm, correct? What provoked this battle?"

“Correct. I struck the spear from her hand, when she barred me passage,” Kain said simply. It mattered not that he had been looking for Raziel for nearly a day, becoming increasingly concerned as Ancients either denied him entrance or Raziel was teleported about the temple complex.

Unsurprised by the answer, Raziel looked down at the pinned guard. "For what reason did you bar Kain from my presence?" he asked. He had his suspicions--but he wanted to hear the words.

“Because only les Gardiens, and those with... autorisation are to see you,” the woman said, without raising her gaze from Raziel’s hooves. Her command of the common human dialect was evidently imperfect.

Raziel turned to Armon and Chaika. "I will not execute her for doing her duty, no matter how misguided," he said flatly. "Kain may demand some manner of retribution for this insult--but I for one find myself more displeased at those who issued the commands that do not allow my companions to come and go as they please."

“Retribution?” Kain echoed, eyes narrowing. He considered the guard, still forced to kneel, and how easily she had incapacitated him. Vorador’s little trick of interrupting his use of magic, including shapeshifting, was evidently common among the Ancients. And Kain considered what he had learned of the human forces in the region, and of the Ancients’ stringent system of honor. Execution was likely among the least of the guard’s worries. “Yes, I do so require. Raziel has no personal guard contingent here. This guard will be assigned to that detail.”

Raziel broke off his hard stare at the Guardians to glance at Kain in surprise. What was his sire plotting? "You truly believe such is necessary?" he asked.

 _Later,_ Kain Whispered simply, fully cognizant that those around him could likely pick up the sending, as well as Raziel. “Attendants are oftimes useful,” he pointed out, which was perhaps true, but did nothing to answer Raziel’s inquiry.

"... very well." Raziel turned to the Guardians once more, with a sidelong glance at the kneeling guard, trying to gauge her reaction. The Ancients, for all their welcome, were still relative unknowns to him--did she also seek death, like so many of her compatriots? Would she feel cheated if it were denied--or relieved? "If that is acceptable?"

“I...” The Guardians glanced to one another. “Of course,” said Armon silkily. “Shall your companion join us at the Water shrine?”

The guardswoman was promptly released, though she remained kneeling for a few moments, blinking up at Raziel with wide and startled eyes, as if in shock. One of the other guards handed over her spear, and she took it, using the support to lever herself stiffly to her feet.

Raziel found something about the Guardians' reactions to Kain's request suspicious--but he showed none of it, his expression cool and unrevealing. Ignoring his new 'personal guard' for the moment, he addressed himself to Kain. "Did you wish to accompany us to the Water shrine? Or is there some other matter of import you wish to discuss with me?"

Arrogantly, Kain leveled his gaze on the Guardians. “You may collect Raziel later this eve for your demonstration,” he said. “I have need of his attention for the moment.”

As the Guardians graciously inclined their heads, Kain looked to the elder. “Where may we speak?”

"If you will excuse us," Raziel said in turn to his erstwhile escorts, giving them both a slight bow. Turning, he waved a hand at a nearby entrance. "There is an open plaza that way--not well frequented, I believe. If that will suffice? Or we can return to my lodgings, if you prefer."

Kain nodded and accompanied Raziel through the carved archway, walking with him towards the plaza. Raziel’s new attendant fell in behind and to Raziel’s left, maintaining a precise and respectful distance.

The moonlit courtyard was indeed empty, though there was some movement as a handful of Ancients moved past the archways above. As usual, Raziel’s presence drew curious glances, though the Ancients were polite as ever, and refrained from staring openly. Kain was not so considerate, giving Raziel a long and considering look. It might be wise to speak more privately, after all. “Are you well?” he asked, at last.

"I am," Raziel said in return, unperturbed by Kain's scrutiny. "My apologies, Kain--I was not aware that their care had extended to barring you and Tarrant from my presence. I shall rectify the matter immediately." He glanced back at their newly acquired shadow. "What of you? Have you been treated well--and learned anything?"

“Yes, on both accounts,” Kain said, reaching out to lay a hand on Raziel’s shoulder. The light scrape of his claws would have slit open ordinary fabric, but did nothing against the elder’s new garb. “Were you aware when he landed in this era that you would be viewed by its inhabitants as a... messiah?”

"I knew there were some prophecies concerning the Reaver ... and myself. But no--I did not expect to be lauded in such a fashion," Raziel said somberly. "It is a difficult line to walk. I do not wish to raise false hopes--but at the same time, I do not wish to spurn such a chance at alliance. Their assistance ... would be invaluable in many ways ..."

Kain watched with slightly narrowed eyes. “From what I have observed, you already have their assistance, and could scarcely lose it were you to feast upon the Ancients’ flesh in broad daylight,” he said wryly. “As for false hopes -- every Ancient I have so far encountered longs to return to this ‘Wheel’ of theirs. The only hope raised by your presence is that of a sooner death, which will occur with or without your influence now.” Kain paused. “Unless... you mean to attempt to alter the Ancients’ fate?”

"If I thought I could change their fate, I would--but you and I both know that the future does not hold a place for them," Raziel said tiredly. "Even if I could somehow miraculously save them from their curse, I could not save them from the humans--the Sarafan, the Hylden, and all the others that will come .... So many things would change if the Ancients survived, that you and I both might very well cease to exist." He shook his head. "It is a poor repayment we can offer for their generosity. Janos claims that if I brought my clan here, to this time, that caring for them might well give the Ancients purpose again. To welcome such interlopers is something I can hardly comprehend ..." Raziel's own nature was a great deal more territorial than the Ancients seemed to be, at least.

Kain growled softly, though he was gladdened to hear that Raziel sought not to undo the weave of history. That would be a perilous step indeed. “Janos? Janos Audron?” Kain paused, frowning. “I take it you have seen little of the rest of the city. But if the Ancients believe you to be their Divine Benefactor...” Kain considered their surroundings with narrowed eyes, before stalking to an upright supporting column. “This set of engraved inscriptions, here, evidently means just that. Have you not seen this combination of symbols everywhere? I can tell you that the city is rife with shrines and temples devoted to the Ancients’ God, and to this ‘Benefactor’, and that talk -- evidently of you, is on the lips of every one of the Ancients. Of course they would welcome your clan, should you give the word.” Kain snorted. “I know not how much has been told to you, but... methinks they should attend to their human chattel more.”

"The humans?" Raziel gave him a sharp glance. "What do you mean? Are the humans plotting some manner of revolt, or inquisition?" Had the enmity between the races begun even earlier than he had thought?

“I do not know if there is a true revolt being planned,” Kain admitted, for even his guise had not permitted him to collect so much information in a single day. “But it appears that the Ancients have little experience in the subjugation of humankind. Over the past generation, their grip has neither been so fierce as to cow the populace, not so beneficent as to win adoration. Rather, the Ancients simply hunt the occasional human, and expect the rest to know their place.”

Raziel frowned. "How could they be so blind ...?" But of course, the humans never had reason to turn against the Ancients before the Curse, now did they? It seemed that the Ancients might be unwittingly hastening their own extinction through sheer ignorance. "Perhaps I should bring my clan to this time," he said grimly. "Humans, at least, they know how to deal with."

Kain arched an eyebrow. “Was there another era you were considering? I sought assistance at a local astronomer’s, by the way. We appear to be some seven thousand, three hundred and eleven years before the date of my birth.”

"Well, that is certainly accurate enough," Raziel said, a bit amused at Kain's exactitude. "And while the era is certainly far enough back to preserve my clan, I had not thought to embroil them with the doings of the Ancients." He sobered again. "Time is a elusive thing--both relatively immutable and far too fragile for my tastes. I cannot predict what might happen when modern vampires meet the ancient. Could they live together in relative peace? Or will my clan cause yet more conflict in this era--with the Ancients, or with the humans? These are questions without answers--and yet we must answer them, at least to a degree."

“Verily?” Kain asked. “History will trace its course regardless, will it not, regardless of whether your clan exists ‘in peace’ or no.” He turned, pacing slowly. “However, Raziel... Is there any chance of the Ancients convincing the members of your clan likewise into suicide? For I admit I mistrust what I have heard of the nine Guardians. It seems to me they command the cult that leads its adherents to their deaths.”

"How so?" Raziel asked. "They all believe devoutly in their God, and the blasphemy of their curse, of course--I doubt I could dissuade them of that belief, 'divine benefactor' or not. Do you mean that they are actively encouraging the rest of their people to take their own lives?" He doubted the Razielim would fall victim to such wiles--not after fighting to survive and prosper for centuries. But there was always the possibility that in Raziel's absence, other voices might make themselves heard, and lead the clan down paths that Raziel might not have intended ....

“I mean exactly that. The Death Guardian, in particular, is said to offer sermons -- and services -- to that effect, though I have not witnessed anything myself. More tellingly is the fact that the Ancients will not speak to me regarding any of their brethren who have decided not to take their own lives; and I do not believe that amongst millions of individuals there were not at least a few who so declined.” Kain shook his head. “I do not believe the Ancients mean you or yours harm, per se, but it may be best to disseminate your instructions widely and clearly, in order to avoiding leaving matters to the interpretation of the clergy.”

"I had assumed that among those who were left were those who were not bound by duty, yet still wished to live above all else--but perhaps that assumption was in error," Raziel said thoughtfully. While it was a chilling prospect, Raziel was far too practical to discount Kain's observations, or to disregard his warnings. If he did accept Janos invitation, he would have to take extra steps to ensure that the Razielim were not poisoned by the Ancients' dogma. The last thing he wanted was for them to follow the dictates of the Elder God as blindly as he once had!

Glancing briefly over at their silent guard, Raziel remembered how easily Armon had offered up her life as forfeit. "Do you think they do this out of religious stricture--or for more venal purposes as well?" Chaika had remained silent earlier, but as the Death Guardian, would not his power only be enhanced by the extinction of his own race?

Kain tilted his head. “They? You mean the Guardians?” He frowned, considering. “I imagine that ingraining strict adherence to the clergy’s dictates would enhance the Guardians’ power -- which was likely necessary during the first panic after the curse was wrought. And once obtained, power is rarely relinquished. As for the bulk of the Ancients themselves...” he followed Raziel’s gaze to the silent guard, and switched back to the common human tongue. “What is your name?”

The guardswoman looked to Kain uncertainly. “Gana ?ukauskait,” she said simply. Raziel seemed to be, by and large, the only being to which the Ancients applied honorifics.

“And do you fear execution?”

Gana paused, and shook her head. “No. Everyone wishes to return to the Wheel.”

“What would happen if you never returned?” Kain asked.

Gana paled a little; her gaze flicked to Raziel. “Has le bienfaiteur divin... reconsidered?” she asked.

Interesting--the Ancient said she wanted to die, and yet feared it--or did she fear *him* instead of death? "Would you have preferred I choose your death over your service?" Raziel asked, also in the human tongue.

Gana paused as she put the words together. “Both are a very great honor,” she said hesitantly. “But it was not my life on offer.” She tilted her spear, prepared to offer Raziel the haft for inspection. “Many things have more power with soul. With a soul inside,” she corrected herself.

Raziel stiffened--it was impossible for him to pale, but his gaze narrowed on that spear with a terrible intensity. "Your spear--contains the soul of another?" He reached out for it, needing to confirm for himself the truth of her words. "And is it commonplace--to use the souls of your people thus?" Were there other weapons imbued like the Reaver, insane souls trapped for eternity?

“Yes,” said Gana, smiling with pride, “A Hylden.” The long, elegant spear was handed over promptly. The shaft was white, light as wood and as finely-grained as ivory, and evidently stronger than both. Delicate, though simple, carvings coiled around it. The head was silver, long and leaf-shaped, and glistened a little more than the ambient light could explain. And something within... stirred, to Raziel’s touch. “Common... place?” Gana’s brow furrowed. “Before the war, no. After, in this place... only sometimes.”

Not quite a vibration, not quite a sound--Raziel could still feel the presence of the soul imbued into the weapon. It was vibrant, caustic and angry ... a sense of leashed violence in the place of the Reaver's omnipresent hunger. Raziel thought of the Hylden who had his soul imprisoned thus; and thought he understood their hate of the Ancients a bit more.

"These souls--how are they obtained?" he asked, deadly quiet. "Are they sacrifices? Prisoners? Or willing martyrs?" All almost equally distasteful to his mind ....

Gana ruffled her wings in agitation. “Hylden were taken in battle. Others... yes, willing.” It was not a lie, exactly, but her scent spiked with tension nevertheless -- perhaps because hers might very well be the next soul so imprinted upon an item. Or perhaps because she had never asked Raziel’s question, had never before questioned the providence of such soul-infused weapons.

Kain moved slowly to stand beside Raziel, studying the weapon he held. He reached to trace a familiar set of runes with the tips of his nails. He had seen them before, somewhere... “Infernis,” he breathed experimentally, and the head of the spear burst into hot golden-orange flames. The corner of his mouth curved up, slightly. Kain had once had a blade like this.

Raziel flinched backwards, startled, as the weapon burst into flames. Recovering his composure, he took in Kain's knowing expression. "You wielded a weapon such as this ..." he paused, searching for the appropriate term. " ... during your captivity. Was that also an Ancient-forged weapon?"

“I know not, though it seems that may have been the case, for the runes inscribed upon it were similar,” Kain said. “It was a highly useful weapon against other undead, and incorporeal creatures. Alas, the flame sword, like my other weapons, was taken by the Hylden.” As Kain released the haft, the flames flickered and died. “The activation word is ‘infernis’, and the word to end the burn, ‘cessez.’”

Eyebrows rising as the flames vanished as abruptly as they had appeared, Raziel nodded, his expression oddly grim as he handed the spear back to the guard. "Was that weapon also ensouled, then?" He had seen other magic artifacts that did not require souls--but perhaps the greater the weapon, the greater the need to imprison a soul for its power?

Raziel was a realist. He would not rail against the existence of such weapons, whether made by Ancients or Hylden. But he would not hide his distaste for the practice, either.

Kain shrugged slightly. “If it was indeed of Ancient make, then yes, it likely was,” he said, then froze. Several more pieces fell into place. “The Reaver was forged by the Ancients, was it not?” he asked quietly. And sometime in history, Raziel’s essence would become entrapped within it, just as with the guard’s spear... though that supposition still left certain questions unanswered. The Reaver was far, far more responsive, perhaps even self-aware, and a great deal more powerful than the guard’s spear, though he knew not by how much. But in any case... “Do we tempt your fate by visiting this place in the timestream?” Kain asked grimly.

Raziel shook his head. "Not to my knowledge, though we would be wise to keep your Reaver and the Reaver of this time well apart," he replied, glancing at the guard again. They were speaking in the common tongue of Kain's era, so there was little chance of being overheard, but .... "You will recall what happened when you crossed blades with William the Just. I would not want to tempt the same outcome here."

Kain nodded. “A prudent caution, to be sure,” he said. “Regarding weapons, I shall seek out and obtain those considered most effective against the Hylden, over the next few days. Taking a number of them through history should be easy enough, as they will be used once and then returned to this era,” he paused. “If, that is, you feel the problems associated with leaving your clan in this era can be overcome. If not, we can visit other ages easily enough,” Kain said.

"I am inclined to accept Janos' offer--I doubt we would find any time or place more ideal. But before I take such action, I wish to know more about the rest of the Ancients, and what their reactions are likely to be. Your earlier concerns are more than valid, and there may be other, more hidden dangers." Raziel trusted Janos more than any other--more than Kain, even, in some cases. But trusting Janos was not the same as trusting *all* Ancients, and Raziel wished to take their measure before committing his clan to such a step.

Kain nodded. “I will keep Tarrant occupied as long as I can, whilst you complete your researches. Oh, and... until I am certain the local humans are in no position to mount an assault, I would have you keep a guard.” This one seemed competent, and would likely be killed or, at the very least, otherwise punished if Raziel had no use for her. In sparing the guard, Kain had in a way tested Raziel’s authority against the Guardians’.

"You honestly believe I should fear the *humans*?" Raziel said in disbelief. "Enough to need personal guards?" Of all his enemies on Nosgoth, right now the humans concerned him least of all ....

Kain arched an eyebrow. “I believe you should _fear_ no creature, whatsoever, Raziel,” he growled. “But nor should you walk blind. Have you not seen how the Ancients employ humankind in nearly every aspect of day-to-day existence?” Humans far outnumbered the Ancients, even with the recent influx of the latter. They were scribes, cleaners, tailors, and they all seemed to be permitted free reign amongst the winged beings. Perhaps they were necessary, for so many Ancients had been lost, but they still posed a potential threat. “Consider the following -- by advocating that the Ancients delay their return to the Wheel, you may be setting yourself at odds with some of the Guardians and the cult by which they control the populace. If I were the leader of such a cult...” Any creature would be a fool to move against Raziel directly. But it might take little to convince a human to turn assassin.

"Human assassins would do them little good," Raziel remarked. "But I take your point. Janos spoke of a certain--resentment that has already sprung up because of the blood curse. It would take little to fan the flames--and make us the target." His eyes narrowed. "That still leaves you and Tarrant unprotected, however. Tarrant can fend for himself; but we cannot afford to lose you either. You would do well with guards of your own." When the humans turned on their masters, no vampire was safe--and the younger were far more likely to end up impaled or on a pyre than the elder.

“Which would greatly impede my ability to gather information.” Kain shrugged. “I can see little tactical reason for the Guardians to incite an attack against me -- if they attempt any meddling at all.” He little liked Raziel’s nonchalance. Even the greatest of their kind could fall to mere mortals; Vorador had proved that.

"You confuse a schemer's probable intent with the actual outcome, Kain," Raziel said sternly. "It is one thing to incite the humans--but once the flames of rebellion catch hold, not even the Time Guardian may say who may end up burned. The humans care little for vampire concerns; we are all equally monstrous to their eyes. And if they cannot bring me down, it is entirely likely they may turn their ire to an easier target. If you will not accept guards, then at least take extra care in your scouting. The Ancients have armor, and magicks that might well protect you--seek them out." For once he dared command Kain, his concern over his sire's vulnerability overcoming the habit of centuries.

Kain considered this, then nodded slowly. “You have the right of it. I shall do so,” he admitted, then glanced to the archway by which they had entered. It seemed the abandoned Guardians had sent after Raziel one of the human scribes, who now stood nervously, shifting his weight back and forth. “Methinks your hosts grow anxious. Shall I meet you at this time tomorrow night?”

Raziel inclined his assent. "That will suffice, though I suggest we adjourn to either my quarters or yours, if we wish to remain relatively unobserved." As convenient as this plaza was, it was far too open for such meetings ... and returning here would be far too predictable.

“Very well,” Kain agreed. “I was given the central set of rooms, just east of the courtyard with the leaping salmon fountain,” he said, describing the location of the guest quarters. Tarrant knew of that location, however. “Where have you been quartered?”

"I have been given lodgings at the top of the Temple." Raziel gestured in the direction of the cathedral's spires. "Beneath a domed solarium, and near to the suites of the Guardians. It is not hard to find," he added sardonically. "They have been most enthusiastic about emblazoning my sigil upon the entrance. You and Tarrant are welcome to join me there on a more permanent basis, if you wish. However, be warned--the structure is designed such that it requires wings or teleportation to access."

The corner of Kain’s mouth turned up. “With any degree of fortune, the Ancients will be far too reverent to play any hand against you. But take care, nevertheless.” Kain stepped forward, lifting a hand to stroke his knuckles, just lightly, against the column of Raziel’s throat, tilting his chin up just a fraction. “I shall meet you on the morrow,” he breathed against the corner of Raziel’s jaw.

Allowing the gesture, his lids dropping a little in pleasure, Raziel settled his hands on Kain's armored forearms, talons gripping tight for a few moments before releasing him once more. "Tomorrow eve," he agreed. "I shall look for you." Stepping backwards with some reluctance, he nodded to Gana to follow and favored the scribe with a narrow glance as he left the plaza, every inch the arrogant elder he was.


End file.
